


Over the White Kimono's Heart

by junko



Series: Curse of the Nue [35]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya gets the news that Rukia's execution will be tomorrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the White Kimono's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> My research tells me that in the Edo period, even though it became a requirement for families (noble/middle class) to belong to a Buddhist temple, the funerary rites remained staunchly Shinto (as they do today.) So, it may seem contradictory for Byakuya to be puzzling out a Zen koan while making such a fuss over funeral arrangements, but this juxaposition wouldn't have seemed too out of place (or so my extensive Internet research tells me) for people of this time period.
> 
> Brides in Japan wear white to the wedding, but red to the reception. Red is also considered a lucky color. It would be extremely inappropriate for there to be red on a white funeral kimono, which, btw, is worn only by the eldest or head of the household.
> 
> Also, I'm sure there will be those who would argue that Byakuya would never even *think* a swear word. However, I decided that the combination of "mindful" and "cluster fuck" was deliciously ironic, and perfectly in character for a captain who deals with soldiers from all walks of life. Tanuki, I feel, would approve.

It was a day of bad news for Byakuya. 

A hell butterfly interrupted breakfast to inform him that Rukia’s execution had been moved forward yet again. Now Central decided, in all their wisdom, that she must die tomorrow. Where they consulting horoscopes or fortune tellers for the most auspicious date? It was maddening, especially as the Seireitei was under attack. 

Of course, that was probably the reason. News must have somehow reached the council that the ryoka had invaded the Soul Society in an attempt to rescue Rukia. But, did they not see how this announcement would simply provoke Ichigo Kurosaki and his allies to attack more viciously? And if they did, why did Central not issue a coordinated counterstrike? Shouldn’t they specifically set her up as bait or, if not, remove her to a more heavily guarded prison?

The black-winged butterfly continued to hover over Byakuya’s okayu, rice porridge, as if expecting a response. “I understand,” he told it. “Expect a formal complaint, which I’m sure will be disregarded, however, it must be said that, as clan head, I find this treatment of a member of the Kuchiki family inhumane and unconscionable. There are burial arrangements to be made. Such matters should not be hurried. Also, as a captain of the Gotei Thirteen, I feel the lack of direction from the Captain-Commander and Central during the ryoka invasion is incredibly irresponsible. If we survive this, I intend to call for the resignation of all responsible parties.”

The butterfly seemed unimpressed as it drifted off to deliver its message. Byakuya watched as it meandered in unhurried spirals out the open window of his bedroom. 

Whoever thought butterflies were a speedy method of correspondence? Byakuya swore if he was ever in charge he would replace the entire system with hawks or even carrier pigeons. He sighed, frowning down at his cooling porridge. He was just angry about this whole affair—Rukia, Renji, the mayhem the ryoka had caused—all of it. 

The strange interaction this morning with Tanuki didn’t help matters. What kind of Zen puzzle had the god left him with? To win you must be willing to risk losing? What kind of nonsense was that? If you went into a fight considering defeat, the battle was already lost. However, Tanuki wasn’t known as a god of war. No, that drunken, oversexed dog was a trickster. So, perhaps the riddle was a koan of some kind, not meant to have a logical answer, but instead intended to provoke an enlightened state of awareness or mindfulness.

 _Well_ , Byakuya thought bitterly, _I’m certainly mindful what a cluster fuck this is._

He took a deep breath to shake off his darkening mood, and rang the bell for the house steward. Byakuya focused on calming himself. After all, there was much to do. 

Eishirō arrived promptly, “My lord? Is there something wrong with your food?”

Byakuya had forgotten about it. “No,” he said, with a dismissive wave. Byakuya stood up to allow Eishirō to get off his knees and enter. “The execution date has been changed again. Please bring my white funeral kimono out from storage and have it laundered. I would like the seamstress to add a snowflake motif to honor Rukia and Sode no Shirayuki.”

Byakuya paused. Soon there’d be no room for further embellishments to the kimono. It was already decorated with a snowy owl for his father, swans for his mother, and white plum blossoms for Hisana. Where would he put Renji’s nue, if it came to that?

“Of course, my lord,” Eishirō said, emotion catching in his voice. “It will be as beautiful as the lady herself.”

Byakuya nodded. “Good. The casket cloth should be decorated the same way. I will compose the notice of mourning myself, when it’s finished have it framed appropriately and placed at the front of main gates to the estate. I would like to gift Captain Ukitake with one, as well.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir,” Eishirō said. Unable to contain his tears, they streamed down his cheeks.

Byakuya had to turn away, least he break down as well. “Then there is the matter of the casket and its transportation to the family burial site. Spare no expense. Given that Rukia will die a condemned criminal, I expect protest from the family. Remind them that while I remain clan head, my sister will be treated with all the honor and respect of any other member of the Kuchiki family, regardless of the nature of her death. I suppose we should extend invitations to the wake, though I expect no responses.”

“Surely, they will come to offer condolences to you, my lord.”

Byakuya shook his head. “They will not. Rukia’s crimes give them their excuses. Regardless, I was alone when I buried Hisana; it will be the same again. At least this time I’m expecting their cruelty and it won’t come as such a shock. Perhaps, gods willing, Captain Ukitake will stand beside me. Be sure to invite him as well as his division.” Listening to Eishirō choking back his tears, Byakuya spontaneously added, “And, of course, the estate’s staff. I understand Rukia was well liked.”

“Very much, my lord. Thank you.”

Staring blindly out at the cherry orchard, Byakuya rested his hands on the cool windowsill. “Speaking of things the family won’t approve of, I would have Rukia’s name sent to the Spirit King’s temple to rest beside Hisana’s in a place of honor. I expect even more resistance to this request, but throw money at the priests there until they give in.” 

“It will be as you say, my lord,” Eishirō said. 

“That’s all for now,” Byakuya said. “I’m sure there are details I’ve forgotten, but the Kuchiki house is well-versed in burying our dead. I trust you to do your best with the time we’ve been given.”

After Eishirō backed out with deep bows and knelt to slide the door closed, Byakuya allowed himself the tears he’d been holding back.

#

Byakuya was in the middle of composing the second notice of mourning when a breathless Third barged into his sitting room unannounced. Byakuya had been weeping and didn’t have a chance to compose himself.

“Lieutenant Abarai escaped,” he all but shouted, rudely standing over the drawing table Byakuya knelt behind. “He broke down the door and took out both guards. We couldn’t stop him.” 

Taking a moment to wipe his face on his sleeve, Byakuya set the calligraphy brush down carefully. He stood up and cleared his throat, “The lieutenant broke himself out, you’re certain?”

“I… what?”

“I want assurances that the lieutenant wasn’t abducted,” Byakuya explained calmly. “You have witnesses that he freed himself?”

The Third seemed baffled. “Uh, yes,” he said finally. “He took Zabimaru. I sent the advance troop in pursuit.”

“Countermand that order,” Byakuya said quickly. “We will not pursue.”

“What? But, he injured—“

“Yes, and if I know Renji that’s all he did. There were no causalities, were there? Only precise disarming and disabling?” After the Third nodded in agreement, Byakuya continued. “Given this morning’s news, the lieutenant’s actions are not entirely unexpected. Rest assured that I will deal with him. He’ll make his way to the Senaikyû Shishinrô where I will intercept.”

The Third bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously before blurting, “Are you going to kill him?”

Such rudeness. Byakuya shook his head, he shouldn’t have to answer a question like that, but the Third looked so horrified at the idea that Byakuya explained, “I will use whatever means necessary to keep Renji from committing further treason. I hope, however, to afford our lieutenant the same courtesy he showed our division. If he can be stopped by disarming and disabling, so be it.”

“I’ll ready our best men—“ the Third started. 

Byakuya cut him off, “No, I’ll go alone. No one else has any hope of defeating or subduing Renji. I alone have the strength, and I won't see any more of my people injured for his sake.” Besides, perhaps there was chance of diverting that idiotic baboon from his collision course with fate. Byakuya would avoid adding the nue to his funeral kimono as long as possible.

The Third continued to hesitate. “But, sir--?”

“You have wounded to see to, Third,” Byakuya said sharply. “Leave the matter of the lieutenant to me.” Third Seat sketched a quick bow, but as he turned to leave, Byakuya stopped him with a reminder: “You will not presume to barge into my estate without proper introduction again, and should I find that you’ve injured my house steward or any other member of my staff in your recklessness, I will have your commission at the very least, understood?”

“Uh… yes, sir!”

#

Byakuya took the time to finish the notice before dressing. As he settled Senbonzakura into place, the zanpaktō sang its mourning song. 

Before leaving the estate, Byakuya stopped by the seamstress’s quarters. The staff was surprised to find the manor's lord at the door, and, with much girlish squealing, they dropped to their knees frantically. Byakuya was able to catch the old seamstress, however, before she got all the way to the floor. He pulled her back to her feet gently. “I’m sorry to disturb your work, obaasan, but I must ask a favor.”

She stared as though in shock at the sight of his hands holding hers, her voice barely a whisper, “Anything, my lord.”

“If it’s not already too late, I would have you leave the space over my heart on the funeral kimono blank. I wish to reserve that area and a section over the shoulder to the back for a nue demon. Should the time come, you will embroider it in silver, with ruby red stripes.”

“Red?”

Byakuya understood her horrified expression. Not only would the color mar the perfect whiteness of the funeral garb, but red was a color usually reserved for wedding receptions.

“Yes,” he said. _Red for the blood that would be on my hands, for the wounds that would pierce my heart, and for remembrance of wild and handsome locks._ Byakuya helped the old seamstress back to her seat. “But let us both pray this addition won’t be necessary.”

With that, Byakuya headed to the Senaikyû Shishinrô to wait for Renji.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a canon conversation with Captain Ukitake that will hopefully now make sense. Byakuya runs into Ukitake and is ridiculously cruel to him about Kaien, basically saying, "Why are you so worried about Rukia? It's not like you've never let a subordinate die before." If you imagine that Byakuya has just asked his seamstress to leave room for Renji's nue on his funeral kimono, Byakuya's lack of sympathy for someone he percieves as too weak to kill his own lieutenant when it was necessary might make a WHOLE HELL OF A LOT more sense. (Or... he might still be a jerk.)


End file.
